Chapter Text
"All this talking is boring, especially when we're cramped in Takemitchy's bedroom breathing the same air," Baji drawled, his hand on his chin as he wore a lazy expression and faked a yawn. "Why don't we play a game?"
"Eh? What kind of game?"
Baji's smile turned predatory which mixed with the mischievous glint in his eyes as he said, " ousama game."
"King's game?"
This time it was Takemichi who spoke up and had a puzzled look written all over his face.
"What do we have to do there exactly?"
"Ah," Mikey then perked up from almost dozing off on Takemichi's shoulder with interest simmering in his abyssal eyes. "That's the one my brother used to play with his friends, Takemitchy. I believe they used chopsticks with the same number of people playing, in order to know who’ll be the king. And from there, the person who gets to draw the chopstick that’s written ‘king’ will be the one to order around one person each round of a total of two, and make them do his bidding."
“The dare cannot ever be refused or they’ll face heavy consequences. But once the order is completed, the round will restart and a new ‘king’ will be born.”
Takemichi felt alarm bells ringing in his mind, so he asked, voice unsure and wavering, “but the dares have limits right?”
Baji then looks at him, his canines showing as he replies,
“The dares will proceed as I see fit, since I was the one who proposed, Takemitchy. But if you must know, as long as the dares do not involve physical harm to others, it is allowed.”
The explanation still didn’t sit well with him, but it seemed like no one else was complaining about it, so he kept his mouth shut.
“Oh and another thing,” Mikey then pipes up, once again leaning into Takemichi. “to make it more interesting, the other chopsticks will have to be numbered so the king wouldn’t know who he’s ordering around.”
Takemichi released a sigh of relief then, feeling his shoulders slump.
Maybe, he wouldn’t get picked to do dares often, since it’s all by pure chance, right?
“That sounds fair enough. We’ll need thirteen sticks for each of us and a can we can place it into.”
Draken turned to Takemichi then inquired,
“Takemitchy, you think you have some disposable chopsticks we can use? Though we have chopsticks here, they’re all used.”
“Ah, yeah I actually have some downstairs.”
Takemichi then stood up with Chifuyu trailing after him as he uttered the words,
“I’ll come with you.”
“Okay, it’s done.”
Mitsuya held up all thirteen chopsticks showing everyone the numbers from one to twelve in black while the “KING” stood out like a sore thumb in red.
Everyone was already arranged in a large circle in the middle of Takemichi’s room sitting on the cushion the boy provided so they could all play and watch the game unfold rather comfortably.
Once each Toman member gave their assent, Mitsuya placed the chopsticks into a cylindrical tube and began to shake it side to side.
Takemichi felt his palms begin to sweat when the case was being passed around, no one looking at it as they completely let their lives fall on the chance that they’ll get king and order others around for humiliation, be the lucky number that will manage to scrape by alive with their egos unharmed, or be the one unlucky enough to be subjected to what orders may come.
“I’m the king!”
Mikey proudly showed off the chopstick he got with the bright red "KING" written in bold letters.
Wasting no time, Mikey delved into the role of the king and demanded,
"Number three, do a hundred push ups."
A hundred? Is Mikey-kun for real?
Takemichi's eyes widened but felt relief coursing through his veins when he looked at the chopstick he was holding once again to see that 'four' was written.
Escaped the order by a hair.
Number three, who turned out to be Nahoya, then stood up with a bigger grin and with a, "yes, my king," started his push ups like it was no big deal.
From there, the dares seemed mild and tame, making Takemichi feel even more comfortable the longer the game went on.
But it seemed as though the world wasn't on his side this time around.
Souya on the fourth round was appointed king by fate, or luck, and ordered number eight (Draken) to eat a spoonful of cinnamon which he followed dutifully, then number five (Takemichi, this time) to yell the first word that came to mind.
Takemichi's eyes widened as those beside him counted down from three, and so he shut his mouth and blurted the first thing that spilled out of his lips.
"SEX!"
Chifuyu froze, shell shocked from what the boy beside him shouted.
Seemingly realizing what he just said, Takemichi snapped his head down so quickly, not looking at anyone, with a hand on his mouth as his face gradually showed a look of horror.
"I– I'm sorry– I s-swear I wasn't– it wasn't what you–"
"Come on, let's continue the next round."
Draken then spoke over Takemichi, patting his back discreetly while doing so.
And continue they did. But not without the feeling of thick tension permeating the air.
This time, it was Baji who became king.
And with his feral smirk, Chifuyu knew he was once again up to no good.
"I need more life in these dares."
Chifuyu felt everyone's hackles raising, as Baji slowly enunciated,
"Number twelve, give a lap dance to number one for five minutes."
Everyone looked down at their respective chopsticks and Chifuyu watched each wearing varying degrees of relief that they didn't choose twelve, except for Sanzu, to which he always wasn't sure what expression he had since half his face was covered with his mask.
Chifuyu was actually surprised the man came to the gathering this time. He usually passed the opportunity just like his captain, always off to god knows where doing who knows what.
But he supposes his presence was a pleasant change.
Perhaps it would lead to something interesting.
"I thought the game only allows one person per order," Takemichi then spoke up, gripping his own chopstick hard, his knuckles turning white. "So why are you ordering two people at a time now?"
"I'm aware of that, Takemitchy. If that's the case, to be fair I'll forfeit my other order, and this dare will count as two rounds of orders."
Takemichi then fell silent at that, his face turning pink by the second.
Worried, Chifuyu nudged the boy and leaned towards him to ask what was wrong.
That was when he saw the other's chipstick with the "twelve" written on it, making Chifuyu gape but feeling his interest rise.
"C'mon, who's twelve and who's one? Nothing's gonna come out of it if both of you don't show yourself."
Takemichi beside him, flinched. The boy then looked at Chifuyu with eyes that pleaded with him to save him from the impending humiliation.
Half of him, the rational part, wanted to do what his partner pleaded him to, but the other part, the one that's sick and twisted, wanted to see how Takemichi looked when giving someone a lap dance as fat tears rolled down his face, begging them not to look.
Ah, what a sight it must be.
So hiding his own pleasure with a faux sympathetic look, he mouthed,
"I'm sorry, partner, but I can't help you with that. You have to obey the king's orders."
Big blue eyes looked back at him at first in disbelief and then resignation, finally raising the hand that gripped the chopstick.
"I–I'm twelve."
"Eh?" Baji lifted a careful eyebrow in amusement. "That's interesting. Who's one?"
At first, no one spoke up, but then there was a muffled silken voice that chimed in and said,
"I'm number one."
Everyone's head snapped up to Sanzu who held out his chopstick with a delicate hand to show that, indeed, he was number one.
Jealousy flared in Chifuyu's stomach for a second, now that he knew it was Takemichi giving the other a lap dance, before forcefully snuffing it out. He could even feel all the other Toman members tense at the weird dynamic, but an order was an order.
And an order is absolute.
"Sanzu, go sit on Takemichi's computer chair."
Doing as Sanzu's told, he stood up, went towards the chair, and sat comfortably, looking across Takemichi's horrified sapphire eyes which was a big contrast to his own passive, even bored, steel blue ones.
"Hey, Takemichi, do you just wanna forfeit? You can if you really don't want to."
Sanzu watched Chifuyu nudge the other with a worried look that seemed all too wrong, all too fake for anyone to believe it.
But it seemed like Takemichi bought it seeing as he finally had a determined glint in his eyes Sanzu admired despite his immense dislike for him for being weak, as he walked closer to him.
"A–are you okay with this, Sa–sanzu-kun?"
The ivory haired boy looked up at Takemichi fidgeting above him.
His first instinct was to say of course he isn't, one just so he could spite the boy, and two because he didn’t like rowdy crowds and cramped spaces.
He wanted to leave the place and forget anything ever happened. But the stares, bordering on glares, from the other Toman members made his skin prickle.
Filled with irritation to fuel him, he put his hand on Takemichi's waist where he was sure everyone would see and opened his thighs to bring him closer.
"Of course I am, Hanagaki," Sanzu fought his revulsion at touching the boy and lied through his teeth with his silvery voice as he felt the boy jump and tremble.
"Now let's get this thing over with."
The song that they played then wasn't pop nor upbeat.
It was slow and provocative with its lyrics, and Sanzu wanted to throw up.
Feeling Takemichi breathe a shaky breath, his last words were, "I'm sorry," before closing his eyes and dropping down languidly, hands sliding up Sanzu's thighs towards his crotch which made his skin jump and his eyes widen.
What was all the more appalling was Takemichi's erotic and purposeful movements, as if he's given a lap dance multiple times in the past.
Hands gripping Sanzu's thighs, back arching inwards as he moves up, chest grazing his crotch, and face so, so close to his own body he feels Takemichi's hot breath on him.
The ivory haired boy gritted his teeth and clenched his fists at his side as he tried but failed to not pop a boner every minute that passed by that Takemichi's hips swayed languidly against his own body.
Chancing a glance at the other Toman members, he saw each and everyone's gaze latching on to the alluring movements, eyes hooded and lust filled.
Sanzu felt a sick sense of fulfillment that he was the one at the receiving end while the others were reduced to staring and longing to be in his place.
"Last one minute, Takemichi."
Baji's strained voice pierced through the seductive music, still staring straight at Takemichi who ignored the reminder.
Then, with one quick motion, Takemichi faced Sanzu and straddled him as he wrapped his arms around his neck. Opening his clear sapphire eyes glinting with desire and challenge, he rolled his hips and grinded his ass on Sanzu's growing bulge.
Sanzu's hands immediately grabbed a hold of Takemichi's waist to stop his motions and hissed,
"Stop this, Hanagaki."
The other looked like he was going to say something, when the music suddenly stopped and a hand clasped Takemichi's shoulder.
"The time's up, Takemitchy."
Baji cleared his throat, which seemed like it snapped something in the blond haired boy, seeing as he immediately sprang up from their compromising position and apologized profusely, tears forming in his eyes once again.
Yeah, that Takemichi is much better than what the hell happened back there.
Sanzu stood up then and excused himself to go to the bathroom. He couldn't care less what the others would think.
They weren't in a better state anyway.
He just needed to get away from Hanagaki Takemichi, the constant thorn on his side, as he tried to clear his head and convince himself that weak, crybaby Takemichi is nothing more but a hindrance to serving his king.
A nuisance.
Nothing would change his perspective. Not even that goddamned lap dance.